


A Commitment to Hero Motion

by Neo



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-21
Updated: 2008-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neo/pseuds/Neo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like Harvey cares how it is Batman does his job without a stunt double. Or an on-call medical team. If there's something supernatural about it—well. That's so far past his jurisdiction it might as well be in Madagascar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Commitment to Hero Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008 shortly after the release of the second movie, so therefore it's well outside of continuity. Not like it made a whole lot of sense in the first place, but a disclaimer couldn't hurt! Also it's AU but man those tags are a disaster
> 
> The more important disclaimer: this will make much, much more sense if you've read _Twilight_.

Being DA of Gotham City comes with certain perks. For one—and this is by far the truest and cheesiest—Harvey Dent's making the difference he's always wanted to see in Gotham. For another, he can get into restaurants wherein a two-course meal costs more than the monthly rent at his old apartment. Harvey makes good lawyer money, which hasn't quite stopped him from buying off-the-rack suits if the cuffs fit right, but he treats himself now and then. There are, after all, some things Harvey Dent never thought he'd be able to do for himself.

Like seeing Batman in person, for example.

Batman has a superhero chin and white teeth that kind of look like fangs, which is really only appropriate for a guy called Batman. Batman is apparently bulletproof. Batman is, in short, pretty damn impressive. And Harvey's _District Attorney_ , so meeting Batman had to happen sooner or later. 

Harvey reasons that they're on the same team.

He has _no idea._

  


* * *

  


"You're a hard man to reach," Harvey says, and switches off the floodlight.

On the roof of the MCU, Batman glowers. And lurks. For a guy who spends most of his time being virtually invisible, he's remarkably good at making a one-man scene. His eyes glint gold under the mask.

Well, actually, they kind of smoulder. Harvey wonders briefly who you have to see to get contacts like those, then gives himself a firm mental shake and cranks up the charm. He doesn't have a lot of experience making friends with masked vigilantes. This has to go right.

"Harvey Dent, DA," he says conversationally. 

"I know," Batman rasps. Abruptly, absurdly, Harvey catches a whiff of something sweet. Like muffins. Does Batman smell the muffins?

"And of course I know who you are. I'd say you're in all the papers, but apparently you're also a hard man to photograph."

Batman is not amused. Harvey isn't surprised, although he sure wishes Batman would stop...smouldering at him. And blink once in awhile. 

He sighs. Decides not to feel awkward. "It's an honor and a pleasure. I'd like to say that I'm one of the many citizens of this city grateful for all you've done these past few months by way of clearing our streets. As a citizen, I'm...impressed. Inspired. Completely sold. If that's what you were going for, you nailed it."

Batman continues to smoulder in silence. Harvey concludes that's pretty much all he does when he's not beating the ever-living crap out of people.

"As District Attorney," Harvey continues, "I'm actually legally required to be _unimpressed._ Uninspired. Unsold. I don't doubt you'll respect my discretion..." He raises his eyebrows. "Just as you shouldn't doubt I'll respect yours."

"What do you want?" Batman says. There's that muffin smell again. Harvey considers consulting the police commissioner about this precinct's apparent propensity for baking on the job.

"I want your trust."

"You don't want anything from me."

"We both have to protect this city. We can protect Gotham."

"There is no _we_."

"There could be," Harvey says. Batman glares. "There—"

Next thing he knows he's talking to black, empty air. He waits a few seconds, staving off the impression that he hallucinated the entire exchange. The dark offers no answer, and the sweet smell is gone.

When he knows for sure Batman isn't coming back, Harvey pinches the bridge of his nose, then undoes his tie and the top buttons of his shirt before making his way off the roof. He hadn't realized how hot it'd gotten.

  


* * *

  


Harvey gets an invite to his own fundraiser the following week, courtesy of Bruce Wayne. Rachel apologizes repeatedly, citing how she'd spoken too highly too often of him, Wayne's disdain for his campaign commercials, and the vindictive joy Wayne derives from irritating the hell out of her. She rolls her eyes and promises Harvey that she won't let him be devoured by trust fund sharks. Even when he's terrified for his off-the-rack suits Harvey still finds the time to think about how lucky he is to have her in his life.

So he picks out the best suit he owns and stares at himself in the mirror and, finally, goes in kind of prepared. He can't stop messing with his pocket square. And it really, really doesn't help that Rachel veers off about a minute and a half in. Neither does it really help when Wayne makes a speech about him that sounds actually pretty nice, but Rachel keeps staring at Wayne like he's really just a big dick in pinstripes.

At a tiny table draped in brocade that Harvey suspects is worth more than his life, he and Rachel and Wayne and Wayne's three dates of the evening somehow end up on the subject of Batman.

"Gotham City is proud of an ordinary citizen standing up for what's right," he says. And nurses his fourth or fifth glass of white wine.

Later Harvey realizes the rumors really were true—that Wayne goes all-out for these shindigs. In an expansive marbled bathroom he winces for his suit when he's smashed up against the wall by ridiculously strong billionaire hands. The wall is chilly on his face and Wayne's hands are groping his hips, his shirtfront, fingers hungrily skimming his abs through a fine layer of Oxford cotton.

"Is this the VIP treatment?" Harvey jokes as Wayne wrenches off his jacket. He's pretty sure Wayne is as wasted as he is, but when Wayne puts his lips to Harvey's ear they're a bit cold, and his breath _is_ sweet but not the same sweet as the evening's liquor supply.

"Nothing but the best for the man of the hour," Wayne murmurs. He's so goddamn _calm_ Harvey kind of wants to deck him.

"This is a trick," Harvey mumbles. So, so wasted. Wayne is working on the rest of his buttons and breathing against the back of his neck. It's very distracting. "Rachel. And. You're going to destroy our reputations." Wayne makes a considering sound and presses in close, pants still on, grinding faintly against Harvey's ass. "We're so fucked."

"There is no 'we,'" Wayne points out, voice thick and rough. And amused. Harvey has a weird feeling about this, but he's not sure he can summon the presence of mind to figure out why. Bruce Wayne is so strong it's ridiculous. Hard all over.

"Your hands are _freezing._ "

"Sorry." Wayne pauses. "Sorry," he says again, and really does sound sorry. Maybe even a little lost. But he doesn't let Harvey out from between him and the wall.

"If you think you're touching my dick with those you've got another thing—"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Dent."

Fortunately the lube heats up, which is a-okay with Harvey. He's not really sure hot cold sex would be his thing.

  


* * *

  


The next morning Harvey wakes up in Wayne's penthouse with the migraine to end all migraines. He presses his hand to his face and musters the will to look around. Hanging from a hook on the door is a brand-new suit in what looks like a dry cleaning bag. Sitting on the nightstand are some pills and a glass of water. He gulps down most of the water and regards the pills with suspicion.

"Aspirin," Wayne says from apparently nowhere. Wait. He's been there all along, watching Harvey intently. That's not weird at all.

After a second Harvey takes the aspirin. Then he stares at Wayne.

"You have last night on film or something, don't you," he says.

"Probably. Alfred's taking care of it. Of everything. I swear it."

Harvey tries not to think of how uncomfortable he is letting an old man deal with his condom wrappers. Instead he says, "I'm not sure I trust you," which is just the understatement of the year, but Harvey's head is hazy and he's still trying to gauge how angry he can get about this.

Wayne's jaw tightens. "I don't want to hurt Rachel," he says. "Ever. And I'm not here to take Gotham's white knight off his pedestal. I care about this city, like you. 'I believe in Harvey Dent,' right? Last night—"

Harvey bites the inside of his cheek. 

"...it was a lapse in judgment," Wayne finishes. There's something desolate in his pale face that makes Harvey's resolve falter somewhat. The circles under his eyes look darker than ever.

Harvey stares at them for a long moment, then gestures at his own face. "...I think you dropped something," he says vaguely.

Wayne blinks. Harvey jerks his head at the full-length mirror across the room. Wayne glances at his reflection as though he's seen it a million times, and goes statue-still when staring back at him is a set of mismatched eyes: one the factory brown of a contact lens, the other bright burning gold.

  


* * *

  


So Batman is Bruce Wayne is a vampire, which explains a lot of things, like the sharp teeth and the slightly superhuman physical ability and the hot lukewarm sex. It doesn't explain a hell of a lot else, like how his breath smells like a donut bakery and how he has special windows installed in every car, jet, and building he owns so his secret stays secret. It may also explain why Bruce Wayne is so damn good-looking, but Harvey doesn't know enough vampire mythos to elaborate further on that.

Bruce is a nice guy, but he's also kind of creepy. And wants to sex Harvey up for reasons Harvey isn't entirely sure he wants to understand. He doubts Bruce really gets it either. Which is fine with Harvey, really. They have to build a working relationship if they're going to save Gotham. 

So sometimes Harvey finds a new two-button blazer by Marc Jacobs draped over the back of his chair in his office, and sometimes Harvey drops large stacks of legal files in one of Wayne Enterprises's anonymous mailboxes. Sometimes they do it, sure, but the important thing is they fight crime. And that's right in Harvey's book.

  


* * *

  
**EPILOGUE**   


"You have a truly dazzling smile, Mr. Wayne," says a Chinese supermodel.

"Good genes," Bruce says. "You've no idea how it flatters me to hear that from you, Ms. Wei. What about you, Mr. Dent?"

"—sorry, what?"

"Do I dazzle you?"

"..."

"Mr. Dent."

"If you listen closely, you'll hear the sound of me invoking my knowledge of the legal system and pleading the Fifth."

"This is serious business, Mr. Dent."

"Hey, you know what's also serious? Parole violation rates."

"...Harvey."

"I could go for some canapés," Harvey says, and leaves.


End file.
